The Maroon Sweater
by dutchtulips
Summary: R/Hr quickfic. Ron always hates it when he gets maroon sweaters. So why's he so attached to the one got for his birthday?


SD ~ JKR reaps everything. (I heard Order of the Phoenix will be out in December, I hope that's true, Jo!) 

AN ~ takes place any time after 4th year. as always, it's your pick. let's just see where this goes. . . 

**The Maroon Sweater**

****

****-dutchtulips- 

It was Saturday night, and Harry was sitting by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, his Broomstick Servicing Kit open beside him and his trusty Firebolt in his lap. Usually Harry had all of his concentration on polishing it up on nights when it needed it, but on this particular evening, he was distracted. 

There was something utterly strange about Ron. He wasn't doing anything unusual, had just walked in and sat down on the red velvet sofa, reading _Flying With The Cannons_ for Merlin knew how many times. But something was definitely off. He glanced sideways at his best friend every so often, hoping it would catch his eye. 

Just as Harry was putting away the jar of broomstick polish, it hit him. 

"Ron?" 

The redhead looked up from his book. "What's up, mate?" 

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Your sweater." 

Ron looked down, and then back up curiously (though it seemed to Harry that that puzzlement was forced). "Yeah, so? I had my birthday last week. What about it?" 

"It's maroon." Harry closed the Broomstick Servicing Kit box and laid it on the flor nex to his chair. 

"And?" 

_Honestly, Ron, how daft can you be?_ Harry thought but didn't say it. Out loud, "You hate maroon." 

The redhead merely shrugged in response. 

Harry dropped his shoulders, sighing in exasperation. "Every year at Christmas your mum sends you a sweater, and you always complain about it being maroon, so I was just wondering." 

"Well, I. . .it was a birthday present, you know," Ron stammered, without really answering his friend's query. 

Harry sighed again, gathered up his broomstick things and his Firebolt, about ready to stand and take them upstairs. But before he did, the sounds of someone clambering through the portrait hole filled his ears. 

" 'Lo everyone!" Hermione said brightly as she stepped into the common room, her arms full of books as usual. 

Harry dropped back down in his chair. "Hi, Hermione." Noticing the books, he joked, "Still hard at work trying to read the whole library?" 

She rolled her eyes at him, then sat down across from Ron on the sofa and sifted through the volumes. "I found a very interesting one today. . .for Transfiguration. . ." 

"Guess what else is very interesting, Hermione?" Harry said, grinning. "Ron, hater of his mum's maroon sweaters, is actually wearing one of them." 

She glanced sideways at the redhead, whose cheeks were starting to twinge pink. Quickly looking back at Harry, she said pleasently, "Oh, well, that's nice." 

"But he's always saying he doesn't like maroon," Harry pressed. 

Hermione picked up her schoolbag and started looking through it, saying absently, "Perhaps he's just chilly." 

"Yeah, yeah it was sort of cool today," Ron added, jumping back into the conversation. "So, I went, and er, put it on earlier." 

Harry's eyebrows knitted together, and for some unknown reason, felt laughter bubbling up in his throat. "I thought you said you were wearing it because it was new." 

Hermione shot a very quick glance at Ron. 

"Uh. . .yeah, yeah. . .that, too. . ." The redhead stammered, picking up _Flying With The Cannons _and putting his nose in it again, apparently trying to mask the scarlet that was seeping up into his face. 

Harry quickly turned his face to the side to conceal a very large grin that was breaking out over his face. Suddenly it had become quite clear why Ron and Hermione were acting so strangely. Without meeting either of his best friends' eyes, he picked up the Broomstick Servicing Kit and his Firebolt again and started for the stairs. "I'll, uh, I'll be right back. Got to put my broomstick away." 

Once Harry was upstairs, he quickened his pace for the dormitory door. After he was inside, he ambled over to his trunk to put his things away, and then crossed over to Ron's four-poster, where there were still some leftover wrappings from his last week's birthday presents. Harry got down on his hands and knees to peer underneath the bed, and a moment later, pulled a box out from under it. 

He dropped backwards into a sitting position on the floor, the box in his lap. He knew it would be empty, but what had previously been occupying the space was not what he was looking for. Quickly he slid the lid off of the box, revealing a mass of white tissue paper and a small piece of parchment, folded once. 

Opening it up, the note said: 

_I think that you look absolutely dashing in maroon._

__

_Happy Birthday!_

__

_I love you, Hermione _

With a very knowing smile, Harry put the card back atop the tissue paper and closed the box, sliding it back underneath the bed. 

**el fin**


End file.
